Help me Make the Music of the Night
by Txon25
Summary: When Gabriella is listening to Music of the Night, by sheer chance, the Phantom happens to be singing it. This causes things to happen, what will happen when Gabriella and the Phantom cross paths? I suck at summaries, but I think you'll like it.
1. You have come here, for one purpose

**Hey Guys! I just recently gained a new muse in the form of a beautiful, yet deformed man. I recently went on my senior class trip and watched The Phantom of the Opera on Broadway, so this story will be a mix of the book, movie, and play. This story hit me one day while I was reading Phantom of the Opera Phanfics. I hope it makes you happy. Review if you like, I learned that it does no good to beg, but do enjoy. Oh, and by the way, this chapter flashes back in forth so you don't get confused reading it.**

**Disclaimer: The three Phantoms I am using belong to ALW and Susan Kay. The only thing I own is the app that let me read the Phanfics.**

Index: _**The phantom singing is bold and italicized.**_

_The POTO universe is in italics._

Everything in normal font is real life.

_**Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation.**_

_**Darkness stirs, and wakens imagination.**_

_The Phantom stood at his Organ, singing softly to a dumbstruck Christine Daae. _

_**Silently the senses abandon their defenses.**_

Gabriella sat in the big recliner, resting her injured foot on a giant stack of pillows. She didn't have much else to do, seeing that she had a torn ligament in her foot and it was just the first week of summer vacation after her high school graduation. She decided that to pass her time, she would look up videos of Hugh Panaro and Gerard Butler, her two favorite Phantoms. She was currently listening to the Broadway version (her favorite) of _Music of the Night_.

_**Slowly, gently, night unfurls it splendor.**_

_**Grasp it; sense it, tremulous and tender.**_

_He walked to her, slowly, knowing the effect that his voice had on her. He couldn't help but smirk at the vacant look in her eye as he sang to her._

_**Turn your face away from the garish light of day,**_

_He gently turned her face in the direction opposite him._

_**Turn your thoughts away from cold unfeeling light.**_

_He coaxed her face back to him and brought her close, his lips almost brushing hers._

_**And listen to the music of the night.**_

_He gave an evil-ish smile and looked away, back toward his Organ, just before she had a chance to deepen the kiss. He kept his smile as he motioned around with his hands, showing her his lair._

_**Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams.**_

_He kept her close with a hand on her back. His smile widened as she closed his eyes and tilted her head back slightly._

_**Purge your thought of the life you knew before.**_

_**Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar. **_

Gabriella's favorite parts of this song were the long notes the Phantom had to hit at soar, be, and night. Her mind and body just refused to function properly when he hit those notes.

_**And you'll live, as you've never lived before.**_

_The Phantom, having walked back to his Organ, pointed a hand at Christine and looked at her thought gentle eyes._

_**Softly, deftly, music shall caress you.**_

_He walked back down toward Christine; he ran his hand down his chest before pointing it at her_

_**Hear it, feel it, secretly possess you.**_

_**Open up your mind; let your fantasies unwind,**_

_He gestured around the room before motioning to make the grate, a gesture seeming like magic._

_**In this darkness which you know you cannot fight.**_

_The Phantom leaned back against the grate and Christine walked to him slowly._

_**The darkness of the music of the night.**_

_Christine stepped close to him and put her arms around him before suddenly pulling away and walking swiftly away from him._

_**Let your mind start a journey through a strange new world.**_

_He walked slowly toward her but she wasn't facing him._

_**Leave all thought of the life you knew before.**_

_**Let your soul take you where you long to be!**_

Gabriella tried, without much success, to control her breathing as he hit that note. It was without a doubt the best note of the entire song, she could listen to just that part over and over.

_**Only then, can you belong to me.**_

Gabriella took a second to regain control of her breathing as the song continued.

_The Phantom smiled as Christine leaned her head back against his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her._

_**Floating, falling, sweet intoxication.**_

_**Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation.**_

_He took her hand and placed it on the masked side of his face and caressed her hips. Her eyes were closed and her face had a look of pure fascination and love._

_**Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in, to the power of the music that I write.**_

_Christine allowed herself to be drawn to what appeared to be a mannequin._

_**The power of the music of the night.**_

_Upon closer inspection, she realized that the mannequin looked just like her. In shock, she fainted. The Phantom caught her and carried her to his swan shaped bed._

_**You alone can make my song take flight.**_

_**Help me make, the music of the… Night.**_

_The Phantom touched Christine's face gently before closing the curtain around her._

Gabrielle closed her eyes as her Phantom sang the last part of the song, covering Christine and touching her face before walking away.

_**Little did the two people know that magic happened on that very moment. Unknown to them, the two universes played that song at the very same second with no hesitations. The synchronization of the two phantoms, for some reason, created a rip in the time continuum, and as The Phantom away, he walked right into it. It sent him through to a different universe and time altogether. Little did Gabriella know, he was unknowingly walking himself right into her life. **_

**I've never written a Phantom story, but I feel pretty proud of this one. This may not be the longest chapter you've ever read, but this is sort of like the prologue. I'm letting my little sister read this before I post it because she is as much of a phanatic as I am. It may be confusing that I mixed all of it together, including the two different versions.**

**(http:/) (www.) (youtube.) (com/) ( watch?) (feature=) (player_embedded) (&v=H_) (EPwji2YB8#!)**

**This video isn't mine, but it is the one that I watched to write this chapter. Youll have to remove the spaces and parentheses to watch it.**


	2. Far too much confusion for my taste

**I'm back already! Haha! That torn ligament, well, it just so happens that I have a sprained ligament and not a torn one, so this is what I have to do besides text one of my close guy friends who is H-O-T cute. Lol. I think this is going to be an awesome story, but fair warning, even though I think it doesn't matter because he is beautiful gorgeous, my phantom will not just have those little red spots and things, I will use the Phantom that is on Broadway. Hugh Panaro said that he got his inspiration for his phantom from Susan Kay's novel Phantom: The untold story of his life. It gives a whole new meaning to Erik and his sarcasm. I suggest that everyone read it.**

**Disclaimer: If I did own it, I would have got to meet my two favorite phantoms. Oh well, a girl can dream. Lol.**

Gabriella woke in the middle of the night looking for her comforter that she knew she'd kicked off. For some reason it was suddenly like she was walking on Broadway (very cold and windy) and there was a musty smell, almost like the she remembered from the underground lake she'd visited when she was smaller. She felt around in the dark at the end of her bed not bothering to open her eyes until she realized that her cover was giving resistance, more than that of her 12 pound cat. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes before looking in the floor at the end of her bed. She froze.

In the light of her TV, she saw something she never expected. She rubbed her eyes again to make sure she wasn't hallucinating. There, at the end of her bad, laid an unconscious Phantom. She could feel her heart beating faster; if this man woke up right now, there was a possibility that she wouldn't see tomorrow morning. At least, she thought, he was asleep enough that she didn't wake up when she pulled the cover. She could see his semi-shallow breaths, so she knew for sure that he was alive. Praying that he didn't wake up in the next little while, she studied his features from the bed. The left side of his face was gorgeous. He had high, sharp, cheekbones, his skin was a little pale, but then again whose wouldn't be after living underground for that long, and his wig set in place perfectly. His lips were beautiful from the angle she could see them, but she knew that if she could see him from a different angle, she would see the beginning of his deformity from under his mask.

_His mask_, she thought, eyeing the smooth white piece of, well she didn't really know what, that covered the right side of his face. She had the odd urge to remove it, even though she knew what she would find underneath, the skin would cover almost nothing, she would be able to see the skull and muscle under what seemed to be clear skin, a membrane of some sort, it would move under his wig and show thinning, almost nonexistent hair, and his lips would droop and be pulled to more to one side. His mask was beautiful, though. It looked as though it had been painted and polished. As scared as she was, she had a really strong urge to touch him, maybe just to make sure she wasn't just imagining that he was lying, motionless, in her bedroom floor.

Her foot was beginning to hurt, but she knew she couldn't use her crutches to walk out of her room, knowing that they made a lot of noise and took up a lot of space. As quietly as she could, she limped out of her room to grab her Advil and think about what she was going to do about an insane, hot guy lying in her bedroom floor. Her first thought was that she needed to hide the knives and anything that had loose ropes. It wasn't the best idea, but her first thought was to throw all of the knives into the washing machine. There weren't many things she had to worry about that had to do with ropes; there were chords attached to things, but she figured he couldn't use those because he couldn't find the knives to cut them loose.

Her foot was throbbing, and she knew that if she didn't face her problem now, she would stall until he woke up, and then where would she be? She limped back into her bedroom and turned on her standing lamp, hoping the less light there was the less likely he was wake up. She looked at him carefully for a moment. He looked uncomfortable, lying slightly to the side with one arm underneath him. Even if he was crazy, she still didn't think he should be uncomfortable. Very carefully, she eased his arm out from under him. His hands we're cold, but from what she read, that was normal. She stuffed her ladybug pillowpet under his head, carefully to not move his wig. She froze for a moment when she moved his head: he grumbled something and turned to where he was flat on his back.

She sat in the floor beside him, pondering on what to do. She wasn't sure what happened, but the next thing she knew she woke up lying beside The Phantom, who still appeared asleep. She scrambled away from his side. It was the worst decision she could've made. She hadn't realized it, but his legs had become tangled in his, so as soon as she moved he jumped up, looking confused. She sat frozen, unsure of how to proceed. When he looked up and locked eyes with her, she lost her breath. Apart from the paralyzing fear, he had the most beautiful eyes she'd ever seen. They were a golden brown, almost like caramel.

_OhGodohGodohGod, _she thought. She could see the confusion turning to anger in his eyes. It was unusual that it took him that long to register what was happening around him. He was a genius after all, maybe it had something to do with the fact that he was here.

"Do you dare to follow me to my lair?" He bellowed.

Not sure of her voice, she frantically shook her head.

"WHY ARE YOU HERE?" He stood; she was still sitting in the floor.

She was terrified, what was he going to do to her? She swallowed the fear she felt and took a shaky breath.

"Shhhhh…." Was all she managed to get out.

He faltered for a moment, unsure of how to proceed with her response.

"What do you mean to shush me?" He said, lower than before, but still loudly.

"You'll… you'll wake my parents and my little sister if you keep yelling like that and since you're not supposed to be here. It might not be a good idea to yell." She glanced at his hands, his fingers were twitching. She could just imagine that he was resisting the idea of wrapping those hands around her throat and choking the life out of her.

"What do you mean?" He said, raising his voice again.

"I mean, I don't know how, but somehow you ended up in my house, and it wouldn't be so great if my parents found out." She started squeaking out, but her voice did get stronger. She tried swallowing her fear again. Maybe it was from the adrenaline, but she was starting to gain a little confidence.

"Why did you bring me here?" He said yelling again.

"I'm serious; my family owns guns, which will be brought out blazing, if you don't lower your voice." She whisper-yelled.

About the time she said that, she heard footsteps coming from her mom's room.

"Get in!" She jumped up and shoved him toward her closet door, succeeding in getting him in the closet and closing the door by catching him off guard.

She sat back down in the floor just in time for her mom to open the door.

"I… What are you doing in the floor? I thought I heard something." She looked the room.

"Oh, I… uh, I slept in the floor last night." She said, catching her breath.

She looked at her funny, not questioning, and backed out of the room, closing the door behind her. When Gabriella opened the door, she was prepared for what she was going to face. She held her hand up and peeked inside. He burst through the door and went for her throat but was shaken that she'd expected it. He put his hands on her arms and shook her.

"WHO ARE YOU?" He was squeezing her shoulders and it was beginning to hurt, but she kept a straight face. Her foot was already hurt, so she put her mind on that pain instead.

"If you let go of me, I'll tell you everything I know." She said calmly.

He glared at her," Why should I?"

"Because, you want to know what's going on, and though I'm not sure how it happened, I can help you figure it out."

He deliberated for a moment before releasing her from his grasp. She shrugged one shoulder, hoping to ward off some of the ache he had caused there.

"You are The Phantom of the Opera or O.G. if you prefer. I am aware of your name, but I don't know how you feel about me saying it." She sat leaned down to pick up her crutches as she said it.

"How do you know this? Are you a spy?" He clenched his fists together.

"Well, if you haven't stopped to look around, you are not in your time. This is the year 2012, and since you lived under the Opera House in the 1800s I'd say that it's fairly obvious."

The Phantom looked around the room for a moment, there were things he recognized: A chess table, a marionette, and the bookshelf, but there were things like a mirror playing pictures and a lamp that had something other than a candle in it. He knew there were ways to harness power; he used the lake to control many of his inventions, but there was no water around them.

Gabriella could see him pondering on the room around him. She was slightly relieved that he hadn't actually tried to kill her yet. She hobbled over to the bedroom door and looked to see if anyone was in the living room, one of the perks of living in a single story house. Her step-dad was working a 24-hour shift at the ambulance service, so she didn't have to worry about him, but she knew her mom wasn't working. She needed to take immediate action.

"Hey, Mom." She yelled.

"Yeah?" She heard back, it didn't sound like her mom was walking in her direction, so she relaxed a little.

"Can you run to the store and grab something for breakfast? I have money on the coffee table."

Her mom didn't answer, but she heard the keys rattle before hearing a muffled 'be back in a few minutes." She let out a relieved breath before turning back to the Phantom.

"Follow me." She said before walking, slowly on her crutches, out to the living room.

"Do you know what is happening?" He asked. This time he actually sounded curious.

"No, but I'm going to show you why I know so much about you." She picked her copy of Phantom of the Opera and handed it to him.

He studied it for a few moments," This looks nothing like me." He said, still looking at the box.

"No, but this isn't the only version of that movie. You look like the Phantom that is on Broadway, which brings me to my second piece of evidence." She picked up a book on the bookshelf beside the entertainment center.

She showed him the cover of the novel. It was her copy of Susan Kay's Phantom novel, "These two versions aren't exactly the same, but I assume that they each have true points."

He took the book from her and flipped through the pages. He looked up at her with a confused look and went back to looking through the book.

"This book isn't finished," He said tossing it at her, "Look."

She didn't understand what he was saying, so she flipped through the book. He was right. The book cut off about two-thirds of the way through.

"That can't be right," She said before flipping through it again, "Let me see that movie."

He handed her the movie and she quickly put it in and pressed play. Everything seemed fine at first. Christine sang "Think of me" and was whisked away to the Phantom's lair. But then something strange happened. The Phantom was singing "Music of the Night," and as soon as he closed the curtain around his bed, the movie just stopped. There was no flash or snowy screen to show that the movie had messed up, it just stopped. She furled her eyebrows in confusion and looked at The Phantom. He looked like _he_ had just been the one to see a ghost.

"That song…." He stopped.

"Music of the Night. Don't you know that? You wrote it." She said.

"Obviously," She heard the sarcasm leak into his voice, "It's the song I sang to Christine just before waking up here."

"You don't think…" She started, but didn't know what to say.

They locked eyes. She could see the confusion and fear again in his. She didn't know why, but he was sent here for a reason. She needed to find out.

**I am really enjoying writing this story. It's unconventional, but I didn't use the movie phantom, so my phantom isn't as handsome behind the mask. I don't care though, because I love the Broadway Phantom, and Hugh Panaro is a sexy beast. I'd marry him if he'd sing for me, I don't care if he is 30 years older than me. As I suggested earlier, everyone should read Susan Kay's Phantom novel. I loved it, and you can download a PDF of it online. I know this is a cliffhanger, but I shouldn't have too much trouble updating. I kind of have a plan on how this story will play out, but if anyone has any ideas, feel free to share. As I said before, I am writing just for the entertainment of others, so reviews are not necessary, but they are welcome. I hope you enjoyed it.**


	3. This haunted face holds no horror for me

**I like that everyone is enjoying this story. A little unconventional, as I said before, but I think it'll be fun anyway.** **My leg is feeling slightly better, but I'm going to keep it for at least two more chapters, I think. A thought came to me this morning. My two favorite Phantoms were both acting at the same time. Gerry Butler and Hugh Panaro. Hugh has been the Phantom three different times, one of them in 2004 and 2005, and Gerry portrayed the role in 2004. I was really excited to come to that realization. If you still haven't seen Hugh's portrayal of The Phantom, I suggest looking him up on YouTube, or copying and pasting the link on my first chapter. Without further ado, here is chapter 3.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned the Phantom, he and Christine would, without a doubt, be together. I'm not anti- Raoul; I'm just pro- Erik.**

"What do you think this means?" The Phantom asked her, holding eye contact.

She thought about it for a second. He didn't know how the rest of the movie played out. What if this was a way that she could help The Phantom, by teaching him how to not frighten Christine. If he could still be his beautiful, mysterious, self without frightening her, she might choose him.

_How am I going to do that, thought, _she thought, _The book says that his mother couldn't teach him right from wrong, just music and common knowledge._

She thought about ways she could teach him morals, her mom might know, but she couldn't tell her mom that her favorite fictional character was living in their house while they tried to get him back to his universe and time. Maybe she could use music as an example, to show compassion and love so he could know that not everyone would say he was a monster.

"Um, Phantom?" Should she call him that? "Uh… can I call you by your given name?"

"How do you know that the book doesn't give you the right name?" He groused, suddenly, mostly back to his normal self.

"I assume that it's right because every book about you, apart from one, all call you Erik." She saw him stiffen at the name. Someone not eyeing him like a hawk wouldn't have noticed it, it was very slight.

"You would be correct." He mumbled, looking at the black TV screen.

"Is it alright if I call you Erik?" She asked again.

He nodded his head curtly before looking at her again. She wondered something. If the book and the movie were cut off, then the live play would be too. She wanted to look at a recording of the play just the be sure though. Maybe they could get lucky.

"Well, Erik, I think it's safe to assume that your world is frozen, which means everything that would happen in the movies isn't happening. Before I speculate further, I need to look at something first."

She made her way to the chair and pulled her laptop into her lap. She had the video loaded already from watching it last night, so she clicked the link to take her to the next part of the play. She held her breath, hoping that the video would start right where _The music of the Night_ stopped. It took a second, but the video finally started. She let out a sigh of relief. It was not the best quality of recordings, but it was the only way to watch anything beyond where Erik had left off.

"I found a copy that will let us watch past Christine passing out." I said, looking up, but he wasn't paying any mind to me. He was busy looking at the TV, but not the screen, he was trying to take it apart!

"Don't you dare!" He looked dumbstruck at my tone.

"Why? I most certainly do dare." He said before returning his gaze to the television.

"You can't just take my TV apart. Remember the parents not knowing about you thing? Plus, that is an expensive TV and I can't afford to replace it."

He huffed but said nothing. Gabriella turned her attention back to the laptop. She felt him lurking over her shoulder while she waited for the video to load. He stood behind the reclining chair that she was sitting in and looked at the screen.

"Trying to figure something out?" She asked, looking at his reflection.

"Everything around me. What are these things? The tiny people moving around in the screen, that small, round piece of glass that you handed me a moment ago in that thin box."

She couldn't help but smile at his musings. It was interesting to have someone old enough to speak to you ask what those things were.

"It's technology of the 20th and 21st Century. A Television, that thing you were trying to take apart, it is used for entertainment. Shows, plays that are prerecorded, and the glass thing wasn't glass, it was plastic, did they have plastic in the late 1800s? Anyway, it has a movie on it, and this is a laptop computer," She motioned to her computer, "It's a… well a computer, but you don't know what that is. It basically lets you play games, talk to people, and watch videos."

He looked at her and she could see the utter confusion in his eyes.

"Don't worry, if you're here long enough, you'll understand. By the way, how are you speaking English?"

"No idea. Maybe for the same reason that I'm trapped in this place. I speak many languages, but I had never really practiced English."

She shook her head and turned her attention back to the computer screen and propped the foot rest up on the chair. It made The Phantom, _Erik,_ she corrected mentally, have to scoot back a little further, but she needed to prop her foot up to keep the swelling down. Her initial shock and fear of The Phantom had diminished. She still felt wary, this _was _a crazy, or assumed crazy, person, but that wasn't her main thought anymore. Her goal now was to focus and not swoon over the man standing behind her. Sure he was deformed, but she had never come into contact with anyone sexier than The Phantom of the Opera, although, she knew he thought otherwise.

She hit play on the video and held her breath, waiting for his reaction. As the video played, she felt the back of the chair moving as if he were squeezing fists. She heard the gasp behind her just as Christine pulled the mask from his face, but said nothing. She sang along with the music that was playing. She didn't make It noticeable, but she continued to watch him through the reflection on the screen. He looked… betrayed. She saw a tear run down the unmasked side of his face.

With a sigh, she turned closed the computer and turned to look at him. He had the mask facing toward her, most likely to hide the tears on the other side of his face. She desperately wanted to comfort him, but wasn't sure of the conduct or if he would even accept the gesture. But still, as scary as this man was, he still needed to feel like he was safe here.

"Erik? Are you alright?" She asked gently. He nodded his head slowly but still said nothing.

"What are you thinking?" She asked this time.

"How could my Christine do this to me? Did she really desire, so much, to see the face of a monster?"

"She's just curious," Gabriella said, turning to where she had her knees in the chair and faced him, "I would be too if I didn't already know what you looked like. In fact, I kind of still am."

She saw the anger flash in his eyes for just a second, but faded. He probably felt defeated, helpless. She needed to think of something to make him feel better, or at least get his mind off of it.

_Maybe this can be step one to helping him, _She thought.

"Erik, would you take your mask off for me?" She asked cautiously, unsure of the response she was going to receive.

He looked shocked for a minute, then it turned to anger.

"You wish to gaze upon the monster?" He yelled, so loudly that she had to cover her ears, it scared her a little, "You claim it doesn't frighten you, yet you will not tell anyone that I am here!"

His words flipped a switch inside her. Her feelings changed from fear to hurt, even though it should mean nothing, and just a flicker of anger.

"You think that I am hiding you because I'm ashamed to tell anyone about you? If this were your world, as in, people actually knew that you were here, I would gladly take you everywhere with me. I'd be like "Hey, this is Erik." I'd gladly tell anyone about you, but you aren't supposed to be real! I can't just be like, "Hey, have you met The Phantom of the Opera? Not the man that plays him, but the actual guy, he's here for some reason that were supposed to be figuring out how to get him back!'" She yelled back at him.

They looked at each other until her breathing slowed. She was starting to feel guilty now for yelling at him. It wasn't his fault that he was insecure; the only people to ever show him any compassion or love was Madame Giry and Christine, and Christine just discovered that he was an actual person. She looked up at him again. The anger had dissipated from his eyes, and she was feeling really guilty for yelling at him. He looked at his feet like a child who had just been scolded for eating too many sweets before dinner.

"Erik… I… I'm sorry about that. I shouldn't have yelled at you," She put her hand on his forearm. He tensed like he was going to pull away, but didn't, "I just couldn't handle it when you started yelling at me, and I needed to get you to hear me. I didn't mean it."

He furled his eyebrows. She could only see the one, but she knew what he was doing, "No one ever speaks to me like that. The last person that spoke to me that way I really considered killing. I didn't, but I did steal a very expensive cat collar from her. "

"I just wanted you to know that I am not ashamed of you. I've seen your face and I don't think it's hideous. I think that if people would just give you a chance or show you compassion, they could see that you're not a bad person. Sure you've made some bad choices, but you do feel guilt, I know it." She said, rubbing his arm.

He looked back into her eyes and she could see the sadness there. This was not the Phantom that she read about. Maybe the things that were happening were causing him to act this way.

"Erik, will you please let me take off your mask?" He winced but slowly nodded his head yes.

She knew what she was going to see when she took the mask off, but she still needed to take a few deep breaths before she did so, maybe to prepare herself for his reaction more than anything.

_If I can get him to realize that I don't care about what is wrong with his face, maybe it'll work in my favor. His whole life no one, not even his mother, could look at him without his mask,_ she thought. It would've given him a valid reason to be so hostile. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to not even be able to look at your mother.

Slowly, she reached her left hand up and let her fingertips wander along the edges of his mask. She wedged her thumb under the bottom of the mask before gently pulling it up and off of his face. It was exactly as they'd described it on Broadway and in the book. There wasn't much skin, only muscle and skull covered by what looked to be skin but was clear. She sat the mask down and let her fingertips trace up his jaw and touch his face. It felt like skin too, just clear.

His breathing was shallow as she put his face into the palm of her hand, letting her thumb caress his cheek. His eyes were closed tightly, as if savoring the sensation. Gently, she let her fingers wander up under his wig, not taking it off, but feeling up under it. She could feel the thin hair, it was soft. She let her hand drop slowly, still letting her fingers whisper down his cheek.

"Thank you." He murmured, opening his eyes but still not looking at her.

"I told you, I'm not afraid of you." She said before pulling his face up to meet her eyes. She put a hand on either side of his face before pulling his forehead down to lips. She kissed his forehead then kissed him on his deformed cheek.

When she pulled away, he looked at her and touched his cheek. They continued to watch each other for just a second before Gabriella finally broke the silence.

"Well, I guess we should get to work and see if we can figure anything out."

"Alright, shall I relay to you what happened up until the moment I woke up." He suggested, it sounded like a plan to her.

"Sure. Okay, let's get started."

**I know, that is nothing like the phantom would act, but I like to imagine how the character would act if placed in a situation like this. I do hope you guys are enjoying it. I think I'm going to change the characters to Christine and Erik because that's how it'll end. Sorry this chapter took so long, I've been spending the week with my dad, so my niece has been running around. Let's just say, a 14 month old and a computer do not mix. I hope you guys enjoyed in cuz I really enjoyed writing it.**


	4. It's in your soul

**Hey guys, I'm glad that everyone is enjoying this story. It's going to be a pretty great story. Oh, great news everybody. Hugh is staying as The Phantom! I'm so incredibly, totally excited about this, I doubt that anything will be able to trump this awesome mood that I'm in because of it. :D :D :D, I just can't help it! In words from my little sister's mouth it pretty "Cape Rockin' Awesomeness." Everyone reading this story is "Cape Rockin' Awesomeness" too. Lol. I hope you guys are enjoying it so far.**

**Disclaimer: I don't think I've put this on all of the chapters, but if I owned any version of The Phantom of the Opera it woulda ended the way it did? My inspirations belong to ALW and Susan Kay. Still suggest that everyone read her novel.**

For most of that day, Gabriella and Erik sat holed up in her room. After they'd decided it would be safer to research and discuss in her room where he could hide, Erik had moved to put his mask back on but was stopped by Gabriella.

"Seriously, Erik, Leave it off. It's the middle of Summer; It's hot and that thing has to be uncomfortable. What's it made of, anyway?"

She'd held out her hand, a silent question. He understood and, hesitantly, handed the mask to her.

"Stiffened leather. It molds to my face much easier that way, but you are right, however. It gets unbearably hot in there."

She'd studied the mask for a second before placing it over her face. It didn't fit right, his face was long with sharp angles while hers was round and soft with high cheekbones.

"How do I look?" She'd asked, turning to him.

He'd given no reply, only looked at her with wide eyes. She could see what looked like -was it terror in his eyes?—hidden behind a calm mask. She knew he had to be thinking something along the lines that her face shouldn't touch it because his face had. She'd taken the mask off, knowing it was making him uncomfortable, and handed it back to him.

Now, currently, they were hiding in her room: She researching anything that could give them clues and he taking apart her old laptop. He'd tried taking her new one, but she flat out refused, digging hers out from under her bed. It still worked, but the charger was messed up. She'd still use it if her graduation gift hadn't been a new one. She sat on the bed with her leg propped up on pillows while he sat in her desk chair using the tools she'd accumulated in the junk drawer: Little screwdrivers and a flashlight so he could see the finer points.

Truth be told, she was lost. He'd told her that as soon as he left Christine's side, he'd walked toward his organ. He wasn't even sure if he remembered sitting down or playing; he just remembered it being colder and windier than normal, then he was startled awake. She had nothing to go on here, no way of knowing how long this was going to last, or how to get him back. She was just guessing when she thought that helping him learn how to not scare Christine was his only way to get back, then again, it really had to be something like that. It wasn't like there could be something to take him back at just the right time –his time was frozen—So all they had to go on was that he was here and didn't have to worry about his world changing for the worst. Frustrated she shut her computer and let out an annoyed grunt.

Erik turned to look at her, "Still not having much success?" He asked, turning the chair so he was completely facing her.

"Not at all," She said, rubbing her eyes before turning her head toward him, "Are you sure that you don't remember anything? There has to be something, a reason for sending you here. Usually when you read about things like this, somebody has wished for it, or something like that. I was listening to _Music of the Night_-"

"While I was singing it to Christine." He finished.

"So maybe at least we know how you got here, or not how, but what caused it to happen." She ran her fingers through her hair, still trying to think of ideas.

Suddenly, she felt her stomach growl. Had she eaten anything this morning? She didn't recall even going to the kitchen. She really dreaded going to the kitchen, though. The crutches made her arms and shoulders really sore. It was the reason she hadn't hardly moved from a spot until Erik had shown up.

"Do you want food?" She asked, picking up her crutches.

"What kind of food do you have?" He replied, standing up and opening the door for her. That still didn't give her a yes or no answer.

"I don't know. All kinds. Do you want to come look?"

"Would that be a good idea with your mother in the house?" He had a kind of worried look on his face.

She thought about it for a moment. What would she do? It wasn't like he could stay cooped up right beside her closet door, waiting to dive in at any moment. Maybe she should just tell her mom. There was always that chance that her mom would know how to help.

"Well, you gotta eat sometimes, right? I guess if she sees you, I'll tell her the truth." She shrugged, trying to play like it wouldn't be a huge deal.

"You're right, I do have to eat eventually, I am only human." He said, opening the door wider for her.

Slowly, she made her way towards the kitchen. Her arms were so sore, especially her armpits, but if she wanted to eat, she had to do it. She didn't need her mom walking in with Erik standing there.

"Why do those sit up under your arms like that?" He asked incredulously, "In my time, they are lower, or you just use a cane."

"I guess they just are more supportive this way. But let me tell you: They suck. My arms have never been this sore in my life." She grunted out while making her way down the hall.

She was concentrating hard on not falling, so what happened next was a complete shock. While she was swinging her leg, she felt her crutch fall out from under her. She squealed for a second before she felt herself being lifted off of the ground. It took her by surprise, but after she realized he was carrying her, she felt kind of shocked. Shocked that he was being generous, shocked that he had caught her in time after knocking the props out from under her (literally), and shocked that as skinny and lanky that he was, he was able to carry her. She wasn't skinny by any means; not saying that she was overweight either, but she wasn't a rail, she had a little softness around the middle. He, on the other hand, was as skinny as a rail. She was surprised that the weight of his skeleton didn't weigh him down enough already. She sat in silence, not resisting because she knew it wouldn't do any good. As she thought, she did remember the book saying he was unusually strong,

"Erik, you didn't have to carry me. I could've managed by myself."

"Ah, yes, Mon Cherie, but I am a man of chivalry. If your arms are sore, then you shouldn't have to over work them."

_This is an interesting turn of events,_ she thought. She didn't remember him ever offering to do something like this. He'd picked up Christine to carry her to the bed. But in any other version, he'd only had two or three people that he'd be willing to do something like that for. She decided to just let it go and maybe ask him about it later.

Everything had gone smoothly, well mostly smoothly. It was kind of hard to convince Erik to eat the foods that they had in the house. She'd finally convinced him to eat some cold pizza. He was wary, but she could tell that he really liked it by the time they were done eating. He'd also wanted to take the microwave apart, and had a thousand questions, but she couldn't help but smile and answer them. He'd carried her back to her room and this time she hid a small episode of swooning. He still wasn't wearing his mask, and she could tell that he was starting to get used to not wearing it. It didn't bother her at all, she thought he had a sense of beauty when he didn't wear it. They were back to their same seats now, doing exactly the same thing as before.

"Erik, I can't think of anything that would've caused this, still. Usually in books or movies, there are ultimatums, special props, something that would be able to send the person back, but we're going on nothing here." She sighed, still clicking through links.

After another hour of clicking through the "Desperate" section of Google. Something caught her eye.

"Erik, come look at this!" She said and he turned from just putting the laptop back together.

She turned the computer around to show him, "It says here that this happened somewhere else in history. The way that person got back was by completely changing everything that was supposed to happen. They righted all of their wrongs, learned their lesson. It was like they knew when they were going back. They described it as, "A darkness in the air with a flickering in the middle, like a candle. The person walked through it and when the other guy, who recorded all of this, checked the previous records, it was all back to normal. The history was different, but at the same time it still continued." I knew it!" She laughed.

"Knew what?"

"The way to get you back! It should've been simple all along." She laughed in triumph.

"And that would be…." He tried to urge her forward.

"I have to help you get Christine. When you can get her to choose you instead of the fop, that's when it'll send you home."

"But what are you talking about; get Christine? She didn't seem to mind my company with the mask on."

Gabriella's stomach dropped. She hadn't showed him the whole play, only the part where Christine takes his mask. He had no idea that Christine chose Raoul over him. It was going to break his heart. What if he reverted back to how he had been when he first woke up? She had to think of a way to let him down easy.

"Your face is turning green." He said sitting on the bed beside her and feeling her forehead with his cold hand.

"I'm sorry…." She started.

"Sorry for what?"

"Just promise me that it will change nothing that has happened here today." She pleaded with her voice and eyes.

"What do you mean?" The confusion in his eyes was bright.

How was she going to tell him this? It was making here short of breath just to think of the way he would react.

"Promise me it won't change anything, then I'll explain before I show you."

"I promise." He said indignantly.

She took a breath, "Okay, —"

He held up a hand, "Whoa, slow down, I can hardly understand you."

She took a longer breath before beginning again, slower this time, "In the movie, Christine chooses to leave with Raoul," She saw his face pale beyond its usual pallor, "Well, she kind of chose you, but you let her go. There was a lot of drama between her removing your mask and the end."

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked quietly, looking at her hands.

"Because I didn't know why you were here. But that doesn't change anything that has happened between us." She said, pulling his face up to meet his eyes.

In his eyes, she could see the internal struggle. He was angry that she hadn't told him before now, but at the same time, he knew she was right. It didn't change that she didn't care what his face looked like. She only cared about what was on the inside.

"I can let you watch the rest of the play now. If you want that is." She said after a second.

He nodded his head, "Yes, but tell me first. Why did she leave?"

"Because of your temper; sit here with me and we'll watch the rest of it." She patted the seat beside her.

She could tell he was still having an internal struggle, but after about five minutes, he finally sat down beside her. She sighed and felt the tension flow out of her as they sat together and watched the rest of the play.

**Bear with me guys. I know this was a long chapter. I'm sorry that it didn't have much dialogue and was a little boring, but I had to make up all of the stuff myself. I hope you guys kinda liked it at least. Thank you to all of the people who are following this story. The next chapter will better, I promise. **


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